


The War is Over Now

by RedWritingHood



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study?, Drinking, Elijah Kamski and Gavin Reed are Siblings, Feels, Gavin Reed Redemption, Gavin Reedemption, Gavin please, Gen, IT'S YA BOY, Mentions of past abuse, Metaphors, Michael Buble - Freeform, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Self-Esteem Issues, Swearing, hey self esteem and anger issues stemming from childhood abuse, more swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 18:45:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16247609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedWritingHood/pseuds/RedWritingHood
Summary: Gavin gets drunk, dances with Connor, and has some epiphanies. In that order.





	The War is Over Now

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song The War is Over Now by Sarah Brightman.

It's New Year's Eve, and most of the officers have congregated to Jimmy's to celebrate. The sound of fireworks can be heard outside, explosions of multicolored sparks in the sky. Someone put on some music from decades ago, Sinatra singing 'Come Fly With Me'. Probably Ben. He's fond of those sorts of old timey songs.

People are talking and laughing and dancing.

And Gavin is sitting at a table in the corner, with a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass to drink it from.

He's only gotten drunk once before. When he stole one of Dad's bottles, resentful and curious about why he loved it so much that he hated everything else. Wondering what could be found at the bottom of it.

Gavin didn't get any answers, only a raging headache and a distinct lack of self worth.

Not that Gavin had much of that to begin with. It didn't help that his brother had left to go to some fancy genius institute. Leaving Gavin alone. No, worse. Leaving him with _Dad_. Not even looking back once.

So much for them against the world.

Gavin wonders if Elijah was ever in this same position. Contemplating liquor and the past.

Gavin snorts and throws back the shot.

No. Elijah doesn't ever look back.

He didn't even go to the funeral.

Gavin did. He went, even though he hadn't spoken to the old man in years. Didn't call. Didn't visit. Got out of there as soon as he could. Never wanted to see that ramshackle hellhouse ever again.

Had to, though. Went through it. His dad's stuff. All of it. His and Elijah's now.

Fuck it. Burned it. Gave it away. Kept none of it.

Except...except for an old family album. Mom. Grandma. Grandpa. Great-Grammy and Grampy. Him and 'lijah.

Tore out all of Dad's photos.

House needs some fixing before he can sell it. That's fine. Fix it up and get rid of it.

Met his Aunt Heather. Woman looked like she'd sucked a lemon. Never did anything for him. Saw his bruises and his temper and made assumptions. Not that they were innacurate.

Gavin was an angry little shit. Still is.

Now, though, he's an angry little shit with a gun. And damn, that's gotta be worth somethin'.

Gavin tosses back another shot. Pours some more. Drinks it.

And again.

Rinse, wash. Repeat.

 

  
Gavin spends the next few hours alone, just him, himself and his whiskey. Chris and Tina don't really hang out with him much anymore, ever since androids started being seen as people. Their interactions whenever he does run into them are awkward. Before, they never protested it, but they also never really encouraged his android hate on in the first place. Now? He thinks maybe the widening gulf between him and them is a relief for his former friends.

Not like they were close to begin with. But they were something, at least.

Gavin doesn't know how many songs have gone by. Michael Bublé is singing now.

_"Birds flyin' high_

_"You know how I feel_

_"Sun in the sky_

_"You know how I feel..."_

Damn. Always liked Bublé. Guy had style.

Gavin is humming and pouring himself another glass when someone stops at his table.

"Detective. I believe you've had enough to drink for the night."

_"Well, it's a new dawn_

_"It's a new day_

_"It's a new life_

_"For me..._

_"And I'm feelin'...good..."_

It's the fuckin' RoboCop. Gavin laughs in his face. "That's where you're fuckin' wrong, metal man. Still got some left in the bottle, hmm?" He shakes it for emphasis.

The android takes it from him and sets it aside, out of Gavin's reach, ignoring his protest. "In that case, how about we keep it that way?"

Gavin shakes his head. "Keep nothin'. Burn it. Give it away. It's a new life."

_"And I'm feeling...good..."_

He salutes with his shot glass and lifts it to his mouth before he recalls it doesn't have anything in it. He frowns and puts it down.

"I'll call you a cab home, Detective Reed."

Gavin focuses on Connor again. His lips curl into a smirk. "You know how to dance, plastic boy?"

The android blinks. "...It was not part of my program."

_"It's a new dawn!_

_"It's a new day!_

_"It's a new life!"_

"Don't need a program for that. Dance with me."

Connor hesitates. "You have clearly had too much to drink. I'll--"

Gavin reaches out. "C'mon. It's a new life."

Connor doesn't move for a moment longer. Then, slowly, he takes Gavin's hand and pulls him to his feet.

Gavin keeps hold of Connor's hand and puts his other one on his shoulder. Connor's free hand hovers for a moment, then tentatively, cautiously settles at Gavin's waist. Over his ribs. A new song comes on. Gavin doesn't know it, but he starts humming again anyway, swaying.

Everything is fuzzy.

He wonders if Elijah is watching the fireworks. If he's seeing the lights alone. He probably has his androids with him. Chloe and Chloe and Chloe.

Forever young. Forever beautiful. Forever sweet and caring and forgiving of all his faults.

Elijah had to build someone who would stay with him forever. He left Gavin alone and built something better, something more than a brother, more than a father, more perfect than the fucking flawed people he grew up with. Something that would never hurt him, something that's very purpose was to look at him with crystal clear human eyes and accept his every facet with a smile.

Because Gavin wasn't fucking _good enough_. Too imperfect. Cracked, like a broken mirror that Elijah had to see himself in.

 _Guess what, brother,_ Gavin thinks. _You're just as human as I am. Just as broken._

He laughs.

"Gavin?"

He looks up at Connor. The android's brow is furrowed, LED flickering yellow.

Gavin's smiling, but it feels like a scar. An angry, painful slash across his face.

They've stopped swaying. Now, they just stand in place, looking at each other.

Slowly, Gavin's smile fades until there's just...nothing.

Gavin has nothing left.

He wonders if he spent it all on anger and bitterness. Maybe that's all Gavin is.

Maybe Elijah could see that and that's why he walked away.

"Are you okay?" Connor asks. When Gavin doesn't answer, he says, softly, "I think you should go home now, Detective."

Home to what? What does Gavin even have? An empty apartment? Is that a home?

Has Gavin ever even had one of those?

"Gavin."

Connor's hand is cool. He feels real. Like there's flesh on his metal bones. Like there's feeling in his metal heart.

Does it ever beat like Gavin's? Pressing, pushing, too fast, too big, too small, too much, too tight in his chest? Does it ever hurt like Gavin's does?

Does he ever wish he didn't have it at all?

He didn't used to. What was that like?

"Detective Reed," Connor insists.

"Jus'...just a minute," he says, blearily. "Just gimme a minute."

Connor is frowning.

Gavin almost killed him. He's pushed him around, taunted him. Real petty stuff, too. Socked him in the stomach. Knocked their shoulders together. Maybe he resents him. Maybe he's just better at hiding his contempt. He could punch Gavin. Just sock him good, right in the face. Gavin would deserve it.

Gavin's hand flexes. Connor's fingers twitch, tightening. But not painfully. Gently. Carefully.

Gavin is the shine of shattered glass under a flickering street lamp

Gavin's hand is being held by a tin man like it's a fucking diamond.

"What the fuck," he whispers.

Why is everything so fucking blurry?

He blinks, and his vision is momentarily clear again. Connor looks startled. He lifts his hand from Gavin's (oh so crackable like Grandma's favorite porcelain teacup) ribs and brushes his face. His fingers come away wet.

Gavin is crying.

"Oh, _fuck_."

"Gavin--"

Gavin lets go of Connor like he's been burned. Backs away. Like a wild animal, confused, damaged by a soft touch. By all the rough ones that have come before.

He turns around and flees. Out the door.

He can feel his pulse racing, his head clearing a little. What the _fuck_ was he thinking? Fucking pathetic, stupid, _stupid_.

Connor catches up to him. He's faster and, at the moment, much more coordinated. "It's okay," he says, reaching out.

Gavin jerks away. "Don't touch me," he spits.

Connor is unfazed. "Gavin. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Well, that just shows how much Connor doesn't know about him.

Gavin snorts. There are storm clouds in his stomach. He wants to argue. Wants to spit fire until Connor is singed, until he leaves like everyone else does.

But Gavin's becoming very much aware that he left his jacket in the bar. His sweater does nada to keep him warm, already sprinkled with snow. White dusts his hair like powdered sugar. Landing on his face, his neck. When he licks his dry, chilled lips, he tastes it on his tongue, cold.

 _Damn_. Hindsight's a bitch.

He shivers.

"Are you ready to go home now?" Connor asks patiently.

Gavin's tempted to resist just based on his own stubbornness...but he's pretty sure if he stays out any longer, he'll develop hypothermia. Grumbling, he trudges over to the android.

Connor wraps an arm around his shoulders, tucking him close while they walk back.

Gavin shouldn't feel this fucking warm in December.

"Plastic prick," he whispers.

Connor glances down at him. He smiles. It's small, but it glimmers in his eyes.

It says, _You'll be okay._

It says, _You're not just the snapping anger and the throbbing bruises and bitter, brittle cynicism._

It says, _You can have a home._

_You just have to let yourself make one._

Or maybe Gavin's just projecting. Maybe he needs to get some fucking sleep. Maybe everything will be normal again in the morning.

 _Shit_ , he thinks.

He wants to be happy. He wants his brother. He wants to get a pet. A cat, which he'll probably name something awful and cliche, like Mittens or Whiskers.

He doesn't want to be alone anymore.

And he's starting to think that maybe he doesn't have to be.

Fuck, he's going to have to be nicer to Connor after this, isn't he?

...Well, maybe that won't be so bad.

"Hey, Connor," he says. "You ever analysed snow?" And he bends down, grabs a handful, and shoves it in Connor's face.

The android fucking licks it. He glances at Gavin. "It's just frozen water."

Gavin cracks up.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Gavin does get a calico cat and he names her Rug. He sometimes calls her Rugbug. 
> 
> *hand slips* Whoops, I accidentally wrote 1000+ words.
> 
> The real adventure was the cats we made along the way.


End file.
